The Brains and the Brawn
by Caremel
Summary: Veronica Mars and Buffy Summers are both working at the FBI, newly partnered on a case that sends them to LA after an elusive criminal. Will they be able to trust each other? In LA, neither will be able to completely avoid her past.
1. Partners

**Title: The Brains and the Brawn**

**Fandom: Veronica Mars/Buffy the Vampire Slayer crossover**

**Rating: T**

**Word count: 4,131**

**Summary: Veronica Mars and Buffy Summers are both working at the FBI, and are placed together as partners for a difficult and dangerous case that sends them to LA after a master criminal. Naturally, their pasts will come back to haunt them and these two strong-minded heroines may or may not be able to keep it together.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own any of these characters, though I wish I did.**

**Background: This is set after the finales of both shows, in the present day. I have taken the final season of Angel into account, but none of the comic continuations of Buffy. I have also shortened the age gap between Buffy and Veronica to about 4 years instead of 6/7, making Veronica about 24 and Buffy about 28. **

**Chapter 1: Partners**

To anyone in the lobby of the J. Edgar Hoover building, it would be obvious that Veronica was late. She knew it as she hurriedly swiped herself in to FBI headquarters, as she pressed the elevator button repeatedly and when she gulped down her extra-hot latte, burning her throat as it went down. The scowl on her face when she entered the elevator had not abated by her arrival at the 18th floor for her meeting. She hated being late to meetings; she had a hard enough time being taken seriously as it was and tripping in 10 minutes after the hour made her look and feel unprofessional. They couldn't know her coffee machine had broken this morning, spurting boiling coffee all over her clothes and forcing her to change her outfit to another practically identical navy blue suit and necessitating a trip to Starbucks to lend her brain some semblance of functionality. Which seemed to be all for naught based on the pathetic day she was already having by 9 AM. She couldn't even remember what her meeting was about or whom with—at least she knew where it was. She paused for a moment before the door to room 1811 to compose herself, which allowed her to push open the door and enter wearing a generally pleasant expression.

Upon entering she saw only her Supervisor, Hendricks. His name was Marshall Hendricks and he had indicated that she was free to call him Marshall, but following the custom of the Bureau, she called him "Agent Hendricks" to his face and "Hendricks" behind his back. A small, graying man of about 55 who rarely smiled, laughed or gave any signs of being other than a cyborg, Hendricks was not Veronica's closest ally, but he would never consider her the source of amusement her peers and some of her superiors considered her. Veronica never forgot to thank God for small mercies.

"Good morning, Veronica." He indicated the seat across from him.

"And a good morning to you, Agent Hendricks." The routine nature of these greetings helped Veronica get over her previous feeling of unsteadiness. This was an unusual meeting, sure, but she could handle it. "I'm sorry that I kept you waiting. What is it you wanted to see me about?"

Agent Hendricks coughed and shuffled his papers. Veronica almost rolled her eyes—she really didn't need the obligatory building of suspense. Hendricks looked up to meet her eyes. "We have an assignment for you, Veronica. It is unusual for us to send out such a rookie agent into the field, but we have determined from your experience and performance that you may be ready for the responsibility."

Veronica sat up straighter in her chair. Did she really just hear what she thought she did? From the general level of chastisement thrown her way since her arrival, being turfed out had appeared a much more likely occurrence. It seemed like someone had actually been paying attention to the work she had been doing instead of the silly "protocol" that she had a tendency to ignore. Veronica couldn't keep the excitement out of her voice as she asked, "So what is the assignment, sir?"

Hendricks sighed and shuffled again. It seemed like perhaps he was not the one making the orders, given his apparent reluctance to pass on any information. Veronica would keep that in mind; it seemed like a higher up might have an interest in her after all. If it was the professional interest she was hoping for, this day was turning out even better than she could have ever expected. "I do not have the authority to give you your assignment. You will be meeting your partner for this project in the 7th floor conference room, where Agent Schenkel will be presenting you with your necessary materials. I will take you there."

Veronica got up from the conference table, taking her briefcase and her finally decently cooled latte with her. This whole meeting before the real meeting deal seemed ridiculous to her. At least she would have time to adjust herself to her next, actually important meeting. Her heart had sunk with the word "partner." She knew that they were a given in her job, but she had a hard time getting into the whole teamwork frame of mind. Maybe that was why she wasn't instant pals with the other rookies. Or maybe they were just the immature jerks she thought they were. The group in DC from her year at Quantico seemed the worst of the bunch. There were a few nice guys, sure, but they weren't really close friend material. There was only one other girl of her year and she seemed to only find herself at home in a group composed only of men. Veronica had heard her complain about "bitches" and "girl drama" a little more than she thought she could properly stomach. And these were her esteemed colleagues, the peers with whom she would be expected to work closely. Compared to those Neanderthals, it was no wonder she was getting an assignment, new as she was. She tried not to speculate on who her partner could possibly be. She just hoped it would be a stranger, so she could start disliking them from scratch. It was a much better position if she was going to have to spend a lot of time with them.

* * *

The 7th floor conference room had the disadvantage of being almost completely surrounded with glass. Veronica hated being so exposed in a meeting. Besides, she was sure it was a security risk. In this case, however, Veronica had the advantage of being able to view her partner before their official meet and greet, even for only a few seconds. Those few moments of reconnaissance were essential to her ability to face the situation with composure. Veronica looked into the conference room as she approached it. She saw Agent Schenkel in there, his characteristic smirk on his face. He was only 35 or so, some sort of Bureau wunderkind and he never passed up an occasion to crack a joke, no matter how inappropriate the circumstances. Veronica often wondered how he'd managed to become so senior when he appeared to offend everyone; she'd heard, however, that he was incredible in the field and could even interrogate a suspect so that he was practically begging to tell everything he knew. Veronica couldn't wait to someday see him in action, as she found the reports of his abilities hard to believe from her few interactions with him. Perhaps that was part of his secret.

To his right was her new partner. At first obscured by a large ficus plant, her partner continued to be a mystery to Veronica. And then she saw a woman, blonde, slightly older than herself and seemingly no taller, slim and with the same California prettiness that Veronica knew others saw in her. The sight made Veronica's heart sink. She didn't know this girl yet, but she didn't need to. She had thought that they had seen her work, seen her skill and were rewarding her with a suitably difficult and important mission with a partner of equal or simply comparable proficiency and experience. Instead, it looked like it was a casting call. She doubted they were going to be focusing on some sort of important RICO bust. The Bureau had ordered two cute, California valley girls and here she was, skills or professionalism be damned. It seemed like all that hard work to be taken seriously had led to two blonde girls being sent out in the field together. Seeing her partner's comparable size and weight to her own, she knew they couldn't possibly be employed anywhere dangerous; Veronica could take care of herself in a general way, but she wasn't really ready to take on someone twice her size. She guessed that maybe if you added the two of them together you'd get a normal sized FBI agent who would be an asset in a dangerous situation. With the two of them together, Veronica just knew they were going to be sequestered in the safe assignment, full of flirting and report writing. Hopefully there will be manicures and massages included or Veronica didn't know if she could cope with the power of her future partnership.

"Welcome Agent Mars," Schenkel said, approaching with his arm out to shake her hand. Hendricks excused himself. Schenkel's smirk became a grin, widening to show some aggressively white teeth. As they shook hands, he said, "So good to see you again." He let go, turning to the other blonde. "I want to introduce you to Agent Summers."

They shook hands, eyeing each other warily. Watching the two of them together, Schenkel seemed ready to combust with amusement. He said, "I know you will be _just_ the perfect couple for this assignment." Veronica could hear the laughter in his voice as he announced, "Brains, meet brawn."

* * *

Brains meet brawn? Buffy turned to Agent Schenkel with a glare. Even working for the Bureau for two years hadn't allowed her to reliably control her emotions. "What's that supposed to mean, Adam?"

She had known him ever since joining the FBI, but he could still throw her any minute with his love of making strange and annoying comments. He had gone from trying to get in her pants to being simply her friend, but she still didn't trust him. Most of the people she really trusted were still in England now and there were certainly none in DC. The capital might not be a hellmouth, but she didn't like to get too attached when she didn't know how long she would be staying.

Adam just chuckled at her question and motioned for her and the woman who had just come in to sit down across from him at the table. Buffy had been trying to tease information about her assignment from Adam before Agent Mars showed up and hadn't had a chance to thoroughly examine her future partner before her entrance. Now that they were sitting side by side, Buffy threw her surreptitious glances, trying to figure her out as Adam prepared his presentation. Adam had called her the brains. Buffy couldn't help but be offended. She knew she was strong, she was a slayer, this was old news. So maybe she had never been the most cerebral, but she had finally finished college when she had been in Rome, a solid B.A. after her name. This girl to her left was at least 4 years younger than she was and there was no way she had seen as much as Buffy had. She sure didn't look like your typical FBI genius. In fact, she was kinda cute. Very cute in fact. Was this just the younger, smarter version of herself? Buffy knew that at least she wasn't a slayer in any case—she would have been able to sense that when her partner came in the door. Buffy might not have loved being called the brawn (it made her think of large hairy men with bulging muscles), but at least she had the comfort of knowing she could kick human and demon ass any day of the week. Buffy couldn't even condescend to imagine fighting this little, all-human girl, but it was a poor comfort to hang her self esteem on.

Veronica thought this whole brains-brawn thing was a joke. Calling the twiglet to her right the brawn could only make a joke of her being the brains. Starting off the meeting with a "blonde" joke wasn't, to her mind, the greatest way to make her feel comfortable. She had heard that Agent Schenkel liked keeping people off-balance. Well, she would try to stop him going any further with that one. Veronica clenched her jaw and prepared to listen to her new assignment with as few distractions as possible.

Agent Adam Schenkel looked at them both, congratulating himself. At moments like these, he knew that the confidence the Bureau had in him was justified. As the two blonde women across the table shifted uncomfortably in their chairs, Adam thought that even if they couldn't get the job done, there would be plenty of entertainment from this pairing. They would either do an explosively good job, or they would just explode; it was unprofessional, but he could go with either. He grinned, passed files to the other two, and opened his folder.

First in the pile was a picture of a man, 40ish, obviously a surveillance photo. Shenkel's voice moved into presentation mode. "This is Max Curran. He is the main target of your assignment. He is of German extraction, born in Erie, Pennsylvania. He has no living family as far as we are aware and no fixed location. He's been involved in various illegal enterprises since junior high, but when he graduated high school, he started playing with the big boys. He has affiliated himself at one time or another with several organized crime groups, but he seems to have few loyalties except to himself. He's smart, maybe even exceptionally so. He has never even been charged with a crime, but he always seems around when anything particularly despicable is going on. Lasting to 40 has been quite an achievement, given his penchant for living on the edge. His risks, however, seem brilliantly calculated and he should never be underestimated.

"Most recently he seems to have become involved in a kidnapping and white slavery scheme. We say 'seems' because we have been unable to locate any buyers and yet the girls who have gone missing have also failed to turn up. The pattern of girls taken—" Schenkel paused to flip to the next set of photos. Both Veronica and Buffy examined them; they were young women, all very pretty and primarily blonde. There were over 100 photos of smiling girl after smiling girl, all missing. "The pattern and the scale of the girls taken suggest the scope of the scheme. These photos are only of the ones we have identified as likely to have been taken by Curran and his associates. There may be many more."

In his brief pause, Veronica cut in, saying, "There are hundreds of girls here. Hasn't anyone in the Bureau been on this before now?"

Schenkel's smirk was erased from his face as his mouth narrowed to a straight line. Buffy had wondered the same thing, but she knew that Adam, easygoing as he seemed, hated being interrupted in the middle of anything. He was a showman and liked others to respect that. Buffy looked at the younger woman, wondering if she realized her misstep. Buffy didn't consider herself to be a demanding partner, but she hoped Agent Mars could handle herself better in the field. She really didn't need to have to support this newbie intellectually as well as her obvious chore of having to protect her physically. Adam replied, "I will get to that later, Agent Mars. If I may go on?"

Veronica raised her eyebrows but nodded. At least this assignment did seem interesting. Schenkel continued, "As I was saying, this is a large scale endeavor. Curran's kidnappings have been traveling across the country from East to West. There is a map in your folder of all the identified snatches with dates and locations marked and color coded. Sources say that his destination, where he may already have arrived, is Los Angeles. That is where we will be sending the two of you."

"L.A?" Veronica and Buffy chorused reflexively, and then looked at each other. They had both managed to express extreme dislike of this choice of location, though Veronica voice seemed primarily angry and Buffy's horrified.

"Yes, L.A.," Schenkel said, his smirk reappearing. "It seems that you two do have something in common after all. More seriously, and to answer your previous question, there have been several other teams that have gone out to work this case, all attempting to penetrate Curran's group and give us an inside view. As far as we are aware, they are all dead." Schenkel paused and look at the women's grave faces. "This is a difficult and dangerous assignment. We chose you because of your unique skill sets and your ability to give us a different angle on the aims and capabilities of this group. All attempts to enter Curran's group as co-conspirators have ended disastrously. You, therefore, will be going in as potential targets." Schenkel paused to let the two of them absorb the information, then went on, "I have to trust that you two can handle yourselves and make it out alive. At this point you are our final option to get this guy.

"Curran's MO seems to be to pick out his targets at bars and nightclubs. He and possibly a few others are involved in convincing them to move to a second location for any pretext, after which they disappear. You are to try to identify Curran and his associates in their preferred hunting grounds. You are not, I repeat, not to move to the second location without clearing it with me first."

"I had my assistant pick out clothes and shoes for your assignment. They are packed in bags in your apartments, ready for you to add a few personal items. The flight to LA is at 20:15 hrs. Your IDs and paperwork are at the bottom of your folders. I'll leave you two to get acquainted and get your story straight. You should be in character from the moment you land in LA onwards."

Agent Schenkel stood up and left the conference room. He hoped his crazy scheme would work; it was the last thing the Bureau had to throw at the whole Curran issue, which was setting up to be a public relations disaster. He did have a betting pool going with some of his FBI buddies on which would call him to switch partners first—he'd read both their files and knew Buffy personally. Odds were on Buffy, but he liked to think it could go either way. Neither could be called easy personalities. He hoped they wouldn't crack, but he'd like to win money on it if they did. It might offer some comfort after the plain impossibility of this whole case.

Veronica looked at her new partner when were finally alone together. They'd had the case of a lifetime thrown in their laps and this felt as awkward as a blind date.A blind date strangely mixed with a lookalike contest. Veronica got out the materials from the bottom of her folder and examined them. "Looks like I'm Savannah George from Charleston, SC. You?"

Buffy affected a southern twang, "Serena George at your service, missy. Looks like I'm your hotter, awesomer older sister. You better mind me, young lady."

Veronica rolled her eyes, but grinned. A sense of humor would not be amiss on their assignment, that was fairly certain. "Honey, maybe you should skip the accent if we're supposed to be even mildly convincing as available sex slaves. That would surely scare away even the most diehard of kidnappers." Veronica looked at her watch. "We have some time until our flight, but I need to go prep some stuff before our departure. Maybe we can hash this stuff out on the plane?"

"Later, sis," Buffy said, her accent even more exaggerated. She continued sitting in the conference room thinking while Veronica left. This girl younger than Dawn was trying to boss her around, she could feel it. She hoped her temporary sister would be less of a pain in the ass than Dawn had been at first, but the bossiness was not all that endearing—Buffy guessed, however, that this was what got her so far in the FBI as it was. Buffy would have to remember that she wasn't the only bossy one around here. She liked to think that she played well with others, but since the Sunnydale Hellmouth had imploded she was afraid she had a bit of a superiority complex. It's hard to save to world so many times and not feel kind of special. That was actually what got her involved with the FBI in the first place. Life after Sunnydale had lacked any sort of real permanence. Rome had been a fun place to live for her and Dawn, and Dawn was actually working for the new Watcher's Council's satellite there. Giles was heading the main office in London; Faith and Robin ran the US operations. After Dawn moved out to go to University, there wasn't really that much of a place for her anymore. She certainly wasn't a watcher, much more of a do-er in any circumstances. She had helped out in the training of the new slayers, but they gave a little too much adulation for her to get anything out of it but a swollen head. Willow had all the instruction under control in any case: Buffy wasn't necessary. So then Buffy started drifting around the world, trying to find herself in a world full of slayers. The only place she actively avoided was LA, where Angel had re-established Angel Investigations. It wasn't him specifically she was actively avoiding though. Andrew had told her about Spike's return to the undead and that he was working with Angel. Her immediate thought at the time was to run to him, touch him, feel he was real. But when she was on hold with the airline to book her plane ride, she thought about how he had known she was here, known she was alive and yet didn't even bother to inform her or his return, of his existence. He had let her believe that he was gone, that he had burned up for her, that he loved her more than anything. And when he got a second chance (or a third, or a fourth: Buffy had lost count), it seemed that he didn't need her anymore, that he could go on without her knowing about his survival. So she perpetuated the fiction of his nonexistence, as it seemed he wanted her to believe.

At some point she had ended up in DC, trying to stop a bar fight on election night. It was lucky she had been acting pretty restrained because there she was spotted by Adam, who offered her a chance to work for the FBI. She barely hesitated. The idea of a place where she could have useful skill without the responsibility of "The Slayer" seemed a possibility, finally, for some semblance of normality. A year of training, two working with Adam and she finally was going off on something important, with her own partner and a chance to solve a problem that was uniquely her responsibility. She couldn't say she wasn't also a little excited to get back into the perilous. Besides for a few demons, she'd had little to do with any proper slayage and it was nothing like real danger. She just hoped Agent Mars, Veronica, could handle herself.

* * *

At the airport, Veronica stood by the gate, waiting for Buffy to show. She had only had a chance to glance at the stuff that had been packed for her, but she knew it was pretty cringeworthy collection. At least she would be wearing them where no one she knew would see her. She turned to see something undeniably, Pepto-Bismol pink coming towards her. When the shock of the color itself had died down, she could identify it as Buffy in a matching set of a pink terrycloth tracksuit. Veronica managed to control her desire to gape, but the word, "Oh my God," only just slipped out between her lips.

Buffy giggled at Veronica's horrified expression. "I was just trying to get into character," She explained.

Veronica eyes widened as she replied, "It seems like you imagine Serena as some sort of Barbie princess from the Jersey Shore. I like your vision. It's very, um, pink, to say the least. I hope I won't have to follow in those incomparable footsteps."

"Well, sis, seems like it's about time we got on that plane and you stopped criticizing my wardrobe. Everyone knows the big sister is the boss." Buffy marched off towards the gate and Veronica was able to observe the rhinestoned "Juicy" emblazoned on the back of her pants.

"And everyone knows the little sister gets to be the pain in the ass," Veronica called as she trotted after her. Through the whirlwind of planning and packing so far, she hadn't had time to properly consider her partner. Could it be possible that this assignment, dangerous and all, could turn out to be fun?

Meanwhile, Veronica's inner cynic was just waiting for their budding new friendship to implode disastrously.

* * *

**Please review and tell me what you think. I would really like to know if people are interested to see whether to keep going! Old friends to show up in the next chapter, of course. Make my sad, authorial heart sing: review!**


	2. Poseidon

**Title: The Brains and the Brawn**

**Fandom: Veronica Mars/Buffy the Vampire Slayer crossover**

**Rating: T**

**Word count: 5,121**

**Summary: Veronica Mars and Buffy Summers are both working at the FBI, and are placed together as partners for a difficult and dangerous case that sends them to LA after a master criminal. Naturally, their pasts will come back to haunt them and these two strong-minded heroines may or may not be able to keep it together.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own any of these characters, though I wish I did.**

**Background: This is set after the finales of both shows, in the present day. I have taken the final season of Angel into account, but none of the comic continuations of Buffy. I have also shortened the age gap between Buffy and Veronica to about 4 years instead of 6/7, making Veronica about 24 and Buffy about 28. **

**Chapter 2: Poseidon**

Veronica gazed over at her sleeping partner. Buffy's head was thrown back awkwardly on the back of the seat and a soft snore sounded from her mouth, a wisp of blonde hair waving with each expelled breath. Veronica had been waiting a while for Buffy to finally nod off so she could look at the reading she had packed as in-flight entertainment. It was a bulging buff folder neatly labeled with the name "Buffy Summers" on the tab. Veronica wasn't proud of what she had done (alright, she may have been, a bit), but it was the best way for there to be no surprises in dealing with her new partner. Working for the FBI, she was all about getting information, sometimes in unorthodox or barely sanctioned ways; it was simply natural that information about her partner would be the first thing on her agenda. She did, however, plan to destroy the file once it had been read, as she knew her superiors would likely be less than thrilled about it if they were to find out. And Buffy probably wouldn't like it either. As she opened the pilfered file, Veronica felt that well known thrill of finding out something someone else didn't want her to know; she couldn't just stop sticking it to The Man now that she was working for him, now could she?

The first interesting fact that Veronica came upon was Buffy's hometown of Sunnydale. Now, everyone had heard about the bizarre "disappearance" of the California town and there had certainly been raised eyebrows in Neptune at the behavior of this unconventional town, but Veronica had never really remembered meeting people who had actually lived there. The file also indicated that Buffy had been there right up until the unspecified natural disaster that destroyed the town, another oddity.

Veronica turned to Buffy's family information. A father, estranged. Mother, dead of an aneurysm when Buffy was 20. A sister, a few years younger that Buffy been the guardian of after their mother's death. It seemed like a lot of responsibility for a young woman, younger than Veronica was now. Veronica reminded herself how lucky she was to have a father who looked out for her, even as she often reminded him that she was able to take care of herself. As someone who refused to indulge in self-pity, she was not quick to pity Buffy either for the weight of responsibility she had held; rather, she felt a grudging respect for her.

She was sure that school records should not have been in there, but she read them with interest in any case. Her grades had been average or below, a fact that made the straight-A Veronica feel smugly superior for a moment before laughing at her own snobbery. Now that they were partners, this obviously had zero significance. More interesting were the reports of her expulsion after her freshman year from her high school in LA for burning down the gym and the numerous black marks on her record from her time at Sunnydale High. It seemed that Sunnydale High had exploded at Buffy's graduation and though they had never specifically connected it to Buffy, Veronica could sympathize, having have those dreams about Neptune High herself. Veronica was familiar with problems with authority figures and felt a certain kinship with this other troublemaker.

She had gone to UC: Sunnydale for a year and a bit before dropping out. Veronica wondered why and then connected it with her mother's death. She had finished her degree in Psychology at the American University in Rome. The move to Rome was puzzling; she didn't seem to have family there or any other reason. A minor mystery.

The records of her stint at the FBI were surprisingly unremarkable, except for a few notes on her combat prowess. Veronica was surprised, looking at the petite woman next to her; she had a hard time imagining her as a martial arts master.

And then, at the end of the packet, a sheet that said "Buffy Summers, see Initiative #31145: Slayer."

Slayer? Who or what the hell was "slayer"? Veronica couldn't even remember ever hearing about the Initiative, so no help there. Maybe her buddy Jerry from records who had gotten her this file could fill her in. She checked Buffy was still sleeping and noted that no one awake could possibly find the hair lying on her nose not ticklish. She used the plane phone to call Jerry.

"Hey, Jer? It's Veronica Mars. Nice to speak to you, too. Yes, that file you got for me was very helpful. It's about that, actually, that I'm calling. The file references another group with more information for the file and I was wondering if you could bring up those materials as well. It's called the "Initiative, number 31145, under 'Slayer.'" There was a pause as Veronica heard some quick typing on the other end of the phone. "It doesn't exist? But it is referenced here. No files or references to that exist, you say? Hmmm. Well, Jerry, you are a lifesaver and I don't know what I would do without you. I will see you when I get back. Bye." Veronica hung up, intrigued. This "Slayer" business was a proper mystery. She would have to get to the bottom of it with her partner at some point.

They had arrived in LA, gotten to the safe house and eaten some Cheerio's that Buffy had packed as a snack. It was 9:30 PM and all Veronica wanted to do was crawl into bed and go to sleep. Buffy, on the other hand, was well rested from her nap on the plane and was eager to get started on the clubbing portion of their assignment. Veronica looked mutinous as Buffy waxed on about the importance of jumping right into it so that they could get the lay of the land, or the "lay of whatever you're supposed to get," as Buffy so eloquently put it. As much as her body protested, Veronica agreed to the plan and changed into a turquoise halter top, jeans and heels. She raised her eyebrows at Buffy's leather pants, but she had to admit she looked good in them, so Veronica let it lie. They could discuss fashion at a later date.

Buffy was a little irritated that Veronica insisted on driving, but was enthused about the whole dancing plan. The mandated partying did seem like just what the doctor ordered. She had been stressed about coming to LA, but now she was here it seemed like a weight had rolled off her shoulders. Everything would work out fine: they'd solve the case, get a little fun in there and she wouldn't have to deal with anyone who was just a little bit closer now. LA was a big city, huge actually, and the fear of meeting a couple of individuals was a pathetic excuse for worry.

They arrived at the Corinthian, a club on the list that Adam had given them for possible Curran hotspots. The décor was heavy on the red velvet and ornate chandeliers, a touch Buffy thought was horrendously behind the times. Even Spike would think it was overdone. Buffy realized that she had actually thought his name and then decided she would just ignore it. She headed out to the dance floor. The music was decent and the dancing was freeing. She saw Veronica nearby and smiled at her. This would totally give her a second wind and she'd be glad to have gone out. Buffy decided this was a not a bad way to spend the first night in LA.

Veronica danced a bit. Her enthusiasm was pretty low and she had never enjoyed crowds of people and noise the way Lilly had. This was very clearly a job to her, and she looked around, not even knowing what she was looking for. She wished Schenkel had given them a little more to work with. Buffy seemed to be having fun, at least. 40 minutes in, Veronica retired to one of the overstuffed crimson couches that suggested to her nothing less subtle than a Victorian bordello. At an hour, Veronica thought they had to get out of there. It was hot, crowded and they were learning nothing, except that they obviously had very different feelings about clubs. Veronica weaved into the crowd, elbowing swaying people out of the way to get to Buffy. She grabbed her wrist and indicated that they should get out of the crowd so they could talk.

"What is it?" Buffy asked breathlessly, when they had finally extricated themselves from the dance floor so as to be able to hear each other. "Did you find something out?"

"Uh, no." Veronica felt a bit awkward now that she had to tell Veronica she wanted to leave. "I think we should go."

"Go?" Buffy looked taken aback.

"Yeah, I'm getting kind of tired of this place."

"Okay," Buffy said thoughtfully, "I guess we should try someplace else before we head back so we can make sure we covered some decent ground. There's this club "Poseidon" that was on Adam's list that's nearby. We can hit that and then call it a night."

"Okay." So maybe their communication hadn't been perfect, but at least they were leaving this place. "Poseidon" would have to be better.

Poseidon was better, in that it was a whole level of classy above the Corinthian, preferring clean modern lines and blue lighting to gothic, brothel-chic. Veronica couldn't help but feel that it looked like nothing so much as the aquarium at feeding time, which on the whole was a marked improvement. There was obviously some sort of a "scene" there, as the queue to get in was longer and more irritable than at their previous stop. Veronica, aware of her charms, gave the doorman a brilliant smile and he opened the rope to them with a flourish. Reaching the dance floor, Buffy slid into the gyrating crowd and Veronica followed suit, resolved to embrace life's experiences as she came across them.

As Veronica danced, she looked up at the high ceiling. There were parti-colored lanterns, part of the cool but fun aesthetic the place was trying for. For Veronica, however, the lanterns were reminiscent of some that were not so "cool" or "fun" and she felt slightly nauseous. Taking a deep breath, she decided that what she really needed was a drink. She looked around for the bar and, having located it, she tapped Buffy on the shoulder to indicate her destination. Buffy nodded and Veronica started to squeeze her way out of the crowd.

When Veronica had finally removed herself from the worst of the crush she was near the bar, where there were several people sitting with her backs to her. She breathed a sigh of relief at her escape and took the small step up to the level of the bar from the dance floor; with that step, the ankle strap of Veronica's shoe snapped, sending her twisting around and toppling backward towards the bar. Instead of hitting the white marble floor as she expected, however, two arms caught her. Two distinctly male arms. As she got to her feet again, she heard a sarcastic voice say, "Quite the knight in shining armor, aren't we?"

Veronica turned to face her "knight." She really didn't have time for any of this nonsense. When she turned, she discovered he was quite tall, however, and she was so close she had to tilt her head upwards to see his face. When she did, she nearly tripped for a second time. "Logan?"

Logan went slack jawed. "Veronica," he breathed. He had been holding her arm to help her up and now he gripped it.

Buffy had been following Veronica to the bar when she saw her trip and get caught, admittedly as a very jumbled picture as she was in a crowd of people chiefly taller than her obscuring her view. When she got into Veronica's earshot she said, "Savannah, are you okay?"

The instant she had opened her mouth, she saw the bleached blond head and black leather back at the bar turning, as if in slow motion. She knew, before his head came all the way around, but she waited to see the entirety of frighteningly blue eyes and high cheekbones before she said his name. "Spike."

When Buffy had addressed her as Savannah, Veronica had snapped out of her immediate shock. There was no time for emotions, not here, not now and when she saw her partner blanch at the sight of Logan's drinking buddy, she knew she needed to get this situation on the road, and fast. "Hi," she said, addressing Logan, "I'm Savannah George and this is my sister Serena. We're from South Carolina, but we came to LA to see if we could get work in the film business."

Veronica saw Logan's mind processing. Sometimes she just wanted to kick him to make him think faster, but right now she was Savannah George, and he was a kind stranger. She wished Savannah George could plausibly kick a kind stranger, but she let the idea drop when Logan smiled and said, "Ladies, it is very nice to meet you. I am Logan Echolls. I own this club and I would be so pleased if you could join me in my office."

Veronica managed not to raise an eyebrow when Logan said he owned the club, but thanked any available deity that he was the son of two actors and could act first, ask questions later. Even if one of those actors had turned out to be a psychopath. Buffy and the well-peroxided guy seemed to be still having a staring contest, but Veronica grabbed Buffy's arm and dragged her along with her. Mr. Peroxide followed along behind, apparently inviting himself to their party. When Logan started going up a flight of stairs behind the bar, Veronica was overjoyed to see a staircase for the first time in her life. She did not want to share even a short elevator ride with this crowd, and certainly not at this juncture. Logan ushered them into a mod, fish-themed lounge area and Veronica and Buffy sat down on the cerulean couch. Veronica saw that Buffy still looked shaken, like she'd seen someone back from the dead. Logan sat down in one of the deep cobalt armchairs across from the couch. His friend seemed to have gotten lost on the way up. Buffy asked if there was a bathroom she could use and Logan pointed to the door in the corner of the room. Veronica half stood up with Buffy, but Buffy refused her assistance, making her way decisively to the bathroom door and leaving Logan and Veronica alone together.

"So, Veronica, what are you doing in LA? Or should I say 'Savannah'?" In his own lounge area, Logan seemed to have lost any unease he may have displayed earlier.

"Working." Veronica did not want to have this conversation, though she knew it was inevitable at this point. Right now she was just going to make it as difficult as possible.

Logan sensed Veronica's resistance and decided to play with it. He looked her up and down, appraisingly, his eyes lingering especially on the low-cut halter top. "I didn't know that's what you were up to these days, Veronica."

Veronica had forgotten that Logan was a worthy opponent, giving as good as he got. She didn't have time for this back and forth, not right now. She rolled her eyes. "Ha ha, prostitute joke. Real funny, Logan, hilarious. I'm only telling you this because I have to, no questions, no explanations, no innuendo. I'm here with my partner," she nodded towards the bathroom door, "from the FBI, under aliases. You don't know me, you don't know her. We are Savannah and Serena and you just met us tonight and you probably won't see us again. Got it?" Veronica looked him in the eye, for the first time since she had recognized him.

The door to the hall burst open and the eye contact between Veronica and Logan was broken. Mr. Peroxide came in. "Had to go outside for a quick smoke." He looked around. "Where's Buffy?"

Veronica pointed to the bathroom. He nodded and flopped down on the other armchair. "Name's Spike, love," he said, holding his hand out for her to shake.

"Veronica Mars," she said, as his cold hand encased hers and she observed him properly for the first time. She may not know anything about his and Buffy's relationship, but it was plain they were exes from their behavior. Despite his extreme Billy Idol look, could see what Buffy had seen in him. From his icy blue eyes to his fitted leather clothes to tapered finger with black polish, he practically screamed sex. From the smile the hovered on his lips from her inspection, he knew it. When her eyes went back to Logan, he was scowling.

"So, how do you two know each other?" Veronica asked, leaning back on the couch.

The scowl had disappeared from Logan's face and he drawled, "Well, we have many of the same interests, actually. Drinking, women, cars—"

Spike cut in, "—having our hearts ripped out and stomped on by little blonde girls." He grinned at Veronica, but his eyes flew involuntarily to the bathroom door. "It's really a bonding experience."

Veronica could see that Spike was not nearly as unshaken by Buffy's appearance as he had seemed at first. She wondered what had gone on between the two of them that Buffy couldn't even face him yet.

"So, Spike's a private detective, actually," Logan broke in, eager to change the topic of conversation.

In the bathroom, Buffy was standing, just staring at herself in the mirror, absently running her hands under cold water. Spike was out there; she could pick out his distinctive timbre from the sounds that came through the door. Running into Spike had been her biggest fear coming to LA; she wasn't ready to see him. Even after the years that had passed, she didn't think she could have ever been prepared for his palpability after having seen him burn up and accepted his death. She couldn't help but remember, "I love you" and "No, you don't — but thanks for saying it." She had wondered whether he had known, whether he was right and she was deluding herself by thinking it was love just because it was the apocalypse. But the hole in her life, the ragged tear of his absence told her that he was wrong, but of course it was too late. The reports of his return to the undead had come just when the hole was repairing and it had torn once more. The years in between had allowed patches to have been affixed and she had been mostly whole again. Then seeing Spike at the bar had shredded them, the sudden ripping off of a giant emotional band-aid, and she was still reeling from the pain and confusion. She met her own eyes in the mirror and muttered, "You are Buffy the Vampire Slayer and Special Agent for the FBI. You have saved the world way too often. You can do this."

She opened the bathroom door and steeled herself to walk to the couch and sit down next Veronica. The other man introduced himself as Logan Echolls and they shook hands. "Buffy Summers," she said, simply. She avoided Spike's eyes though she could feel them on her.

"So, Spike," Veronica said, "What kind of cases does your agency usually deal with?"

"Well, mostly cases that have to with stuff that's, well, unusual." He met Buffy's eye. "But, we just generally keep our ears to the ground, trying to stay on top of what's going about in this town." He gestured to Logan. "Logie boy here is great with the club scene. And for standing us a drink every now and again." He paused. "Actually, we might be able to help you out with information on whatever you came here for if you want." Spike lounged back, spreading himself as wide as possible in his armchair.

Veronica was surprised when Buffy spoke up. "If you think I can work with you, Spike," Buffy said, "you are a very, very confused vam—guy."

"Aww, come on, pet. We've done it plenty of times before." He gave a half smile. "You know I can handle myself."

"I know you _could_ handle yourself. I sure as hell don't know this new, back from the burning abyss Spike." She momentarily took her attention off Spike. "Metaphorically speaking," she said, looking at the other two. She continued, lowed and more pointedly, "I thought I knew that Spike pretty well and that he knew me." Buffy now sought out Spike's eyes and held them.

As interested as she was, Veronica decided to break up this seemingly soon to be intimate discussion. "So, given that you two can't work together and Logan and I long ago proved to be incompatible, how about I meet with Spike to find out what he knows about our local underworld types and you can meet with Logan about the club scene. Does that sound workable?" she said, turning to Buffy.

Buffy looked at Logan. He was a tall, good-looking guy who seemed nice enough. She wondered what kind of beef Veronica could have with him. He could be a cheater, she thought, looking at him. He could totally get plenty of girls. He smiled at her and she thought, yeah, plenty. The smile also seemed slightly familiar. Echolls, he had said? "Are you Aaron Echolls' son?"

She saw both Logan and Veronica stiffen. And then she remembered the other half of the E! True Hollywood story special she had seen on Aaron Echolls. He killed his son's girlfriend who he was having an affair with. And his wife killed herself. Those were Logan's parents. She should really remember to think before she spoke.

"Yeah," Logan said tightly.

Logan was looking at the floor, but Buffy could see Veronica's eyes on him, filled with pity and what Buffy thought looked near enough to adoration. Buffy guessed their whole "incompatibility" thing or not, Veronica still had strong feelings for him and that was why she didn't want to meet one on one.

The easiest way to get out of there seemed to be to agree to the plan. "Okay," Buffy said. When everyone looked at her oddly, she realized they had all forgotten what they had been talking about. "Okay to the whole double meeting thingie. How's tomorrow?" she asked, addressing Logan.

Logan got out his iPhone and started scrolling. "Tomorrow's fine. 11:00 AM, here?"

"Spectaculous." All Buffy had was a gel pen she had put in her pocket before she went out and she wrote "11 AM- Logan" on her hand.

"I prefer an evening meeting if it's alright with you, love," Spike said to Veronica.

She shrugged. "Whatever."

"Right then. 8:00 PM at the Hyperion Hotel. That's where our offices are. Here's the address," he said, pulling a bit of grubby pasteboard from his pocket. "I used to have more of these here business cards, but seeing the silly little angel on there was a little too much to bear, so I somehow lost them all." He handed it to Veronica, who stuck it in her jeans pocket.

Veronica and Buffy headed towards the door. "Bye, Veronica," Logan said as he strode over to hold the door for them. He bent down and kissed Veronica on the cheek as she paused at the threshold.

"Goodbye, Logan," she said.

Spike, seeing Logan's move, moved towards the exiting Buffy. "Don't touch me," she said as he got close and he flinched at the words. She had to know that he could never touch her without permission again.

He seemed to bounce back from the rebuff however and smiled as he said, "So long, slayer."

The door closed behind the two women.

Logan went over to the sideboard and poured two strong scotch and sodas. He handed one to Spike, who drank thirstily. "I needed that," he said, handing the empty glass back to Logan, who refilled it.

"You'd better be helpful to Veronica tomorrow, Spike. None of that flirty, bullshit nonsense I know you put on your other female clients. She won't stand for it."

" 'Fraid I'll steal your girl, huh? Seems like she's not yours for the protecting anymore though, mate." Logan glared at him and Spike became more serious. "Seems like Buffy's right pissed at me though. Didn't imagine it'd be like this if we ever saw each other again." He turned flippant once more. "But don't worry, I'll be nice to Ronniekins. I won't bite." Spike grinned at Logan, showing off the canines that had the potential to become very, very sharp.

Logan came up close to Spike, effectively towering over him. "Don't you touch her," he said dangerously.

Spike cocked an eyebrow at him. "You know I was only teasing, mate. Plus, the fact that you and I both know that I could throw you one of these walls on a moment's notice makes this whole intimidation business pretty damn pointless."

Logan stayed where he was, but the tension went out of his body. He smiled a little sadly. "Well, it was a good attempt, right?"

"Brilliant, bloody brilliant," Spike said throwing himself onto the couch and knocking back his third scotch and soda.

Slayer? On the way back to the safe house in the car, Veronica was consumed with thoughts of what "slayer" could possibly be about. She still wasn't ready to ask Buffy what it meant, but maybe Spike would give her some clues when she met with him tomorrow. It was both a government designation and a nickname? Veronica was having a hard time imagining what it could apply to.

She looked at Buffy, sitting beside her in the passenger seat and staring out the window. She looked exhausted, with shadows coming into her face that finally made her look older than Veronica.

They drove in silence for some time, the variegated lights of LA streaming past them. Suddenly, Veronica heard giggles from beside her that soon turned into a full out laugh. At a red light, Veronica turned to stare at Buffy. "What's so funny?"

Buffy could barely get the words out. "It's just… we're these badass FBI agents," Buffy's next words were swallowed in a chortle but she pushed on. "And then we arrive in LA… and… we are totally thrown," Buffy took a breath, "totally thrown by… by our exes!" Buffy wiped away a hysterical tear. "Not by anything real or scary, but by our exes." The last word came out almost like a sob.

Buffy's hysterical laughter was contagious. Veronica could also see the ludicrous nature of the funk they had fallen into and found herself gasping for breath as well. They both kept breaking out in titters until they arrived at the safe house. Veronica unlocked the door and they threw themselves on the couch to finish their laughter. "I think I need that drink I was going for at the Poseidon," Veronica said, moving towards the cupboard where she had spied some vodka when they had first arrived.

"Is that very professional?" Buffy asked, getting glasses.

"Well, I think we're just maintaining cover. It's totally what sisters would do." Veronica drained her glass and turned to Buffy. "How about you and your sister?"

Buffy wrinkled her nose. "Yeah, me and Dawn don't really have the drink together type of rela—" She stopped suddenly. "How did you know I had a sister?" she asked Veronica.

"Schenkel must have mentioned it," she said blithely.

"He doesn't know." Buffy's eyes narrowed, thinking. "Did you read my file?"

Veronica wanted to say no, but she knew the time for bluffing her way out of it was past. She swallowed, not prepared to have this conversation. "Yes."

Any remaining air of camaraderie had left the room. The recent laughter between them seemed like someone else's distant memory. "How dare you." Buffy stood up, incensed. "That is private information that I know you do not have the right to view. How did you get it?"

Veronica was trying to stay calm, but Buffy's accusatory tone was not helping. "Hey, we work for the FBI. Finding out stuff is kind of our job. What was so important in there that I wasn't supposed to know anyway?" Veronica's words were clipped, ready for confrontation.

Veronica's words just annoyed Buffy more. "Now you've read my file you think you know my life? How could you possibly even begin to understand me or what I've done. It couldn't even be listed in a file."

Veronica was angered by this high and mighty attitude. She didn't think Buffy had any right to set herself so far above the government's record of her life. "You're that important, huh? Have some sort of secret identity? Out saving the world when nobody's looking?"

Buffy was stung by Veronica's biting sarcasm. Her tone was bitter. "I've saved the world more times than you can possibly imagine. What have you ever done that could even bring you close? I'm sure a little girl like you has never seen or coped with real life. I promise you can't even imagine the monsters that are out there."

Veronica's eyes stung with tears. "If you've been saving the world, how come your whole damn town is a ruin? Seems like the saving should have begun at home." Buffy appeared too angry to even form words. Veronica went on. "You have the biggest superhero complex I have ever seen. When you come back to earth maybe we can work together. Until then, I wish you joy on your ego trip." Veronica slammed the bedroom door behind her.

Buffy couldn't believe Veronica. She knew nothing, throwing the saving of Sunnydale back in Buffy's face like that. This whole one bedroom situation was not going to work out so well, maybe even this whole partnership. Buffy took the glasses to the sink. As she put them in, one of them slipped from her hand, crashing in the basin and covering the sink with broken glass. Buffy just left it there as she went into the bedroom. In the other bed Veronica looked like a lump as she had covered herself completely with blankets. Buffy sat on her bed and unzipped her boots, thinking that this was certainly one of the worst days in recent memory. Even given that no one had died.

**I hope you like the new chapter! Please tell me what you think (review!), and get excited for Angel to show up in the next chapter.**


	3. Dusted

**Title: The Brains and the Brawn**

**Fandom: Veronica Mars/Buffy the Vampire Slayer crossover**

**Rating: T**

**Word count: 5,821**

**Summary: Veronica Mars and Buffy Summers are both working at the FBI, and are placed together as partners for a difficult and dangerous case that sends them to LA after a master criminal. Naturally, their pasts will come back to haunt them and these two strong-minded heroines may or may not be able to keep it together.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own any of these characters, though I wish I did.**

**Background: This is set after the finales of both shows, in the present day. I have taken the final season of Angel into account, but none of the comic continuations of Buffy. I have also shortened the age gap between Buffy and Veronica to about 4 years instead of 6/7, making Veronica about 24 and Buffy about 28. **

**Chapter 3: Dusted**

Buffy found the décor in Logan's office intriguing. He had let her in and then said he had to go fetch something, leaving her momentarily alone and free to inspect. She wandered around, swilling her iced coffee in her cup. He had plenty of surfing memorabilia, but few pictures. The only one plainly visible was a photograph of Lynn Lester on his desk. Buffy had forgotten that she had married Aaron Echolls and therefore must be his mother. She remembered that she was dead though; she had committed suicide by jumping off a bridge. Lynn Lester had been one of Joyce's favorite actresses, Buffy remembered; she could imagine her being so excited that Buffy was now meeting with Lynn's son. Buffy moved to see if there were any other photos around. In a standing bookcase, she found a small one wedged next to a book—it was of four teenagers hugging each other and smiling exuberantly for the camera. Logan was one, she saw, a little puppy fat still extant, and beside him were a pretty blonde girl and a cute boy with brown hair and blue eyes. The person she wanted to focus on the most was the last girl in the picture: a young, smiling Veronica Mars.

As she was still inspecting the picture, the door behind her opened and Logan reentered. Buffy quickly put down the photo and attempted to stand up straight innocently and pretend that she wasn't snooping, but Logan just smiled at her knowingly. "I should have known any friend of Veronica's would take my absence as a chance to ransack the place. Go ahead, Buffy, do what you have to do."

Buffy looked sheepish. "Sorry, Logan. I'll just sit down then."

"Veronica would never apologize," Logan said, as he took a seat behind his desk. "But then, she rarely gets caught. Never mind, you must be new at this." He opened his file and said, "How can I help the Federal Bureau of Investigation?"

Buffy bit her lip. "How do I know if I can trust you with this information?"

Logan shrugged. "If it helps, Veronica has never trusted me. And I have been indicted on several felonies—although never convicted. I also come from a long line of cruel, violent men, the latest of whom, my father, was a murderer. I am, however, friends with Spike, if that can be put on the other side of the scale."

Buffy could not stop the giggle that escaped her lips. "You're putting your friendship with Spike on the 'good' side? Are you freaking kidding me?"

"You know, you FBI agents are not as stern and professional as I thought you'd be. Didn't you learn that in spy camp?" Logan asked.

"Are you mocking me? I could arrest you, you know. I totally could," she said, raising her eyebrows menacingly.

"Don't worry, I know not to underestimate the little blonde ones," he said smiling. "It's funny, you're just so similar to Veronica in some ways, yet completely different in different. I can see what Spike sees in you."

She ignored the Spike comment as the last thing she needed right then. "Are you flirting with me? I don't know how Veronica would feel about that," Buffy said, trying to feel out the status of that relationship.

Logan lost his playful attitude. "Don't worry, I'm sure she wouldn't give a shit," he said, with a soupcon of detectable bitterness. "Are you going to use me for my information, or what?"

Buffy saw that she really had no idea what Veronica's past life had been like or her relationship with Logan. It seemed it was best to get down to business then. "Okay. You seem like a decent guy, but trusting you has nothing to do with Spike. I just think we need some sort of pointers in this town, and you seem to know something about it." She took a sip of her coffee in an effort to pull herself together and seem more professional.

"Kind of you to say so." Logan opened his folder and handed her a printed list. "These are the main vampire hang outs in LA—"

Logan paused as Buffy almost spat out her drink. "Vampire hang outs?" she said shakily, "What do you know about vampire hang outs?"

Logan looked at her, startled. "I am friends with Spike, you know," he said slowly, "I know he is not that friendly with the sun, avoids crosses and holy water, and drinks blood. I also know that you are, coincidentally, a slayer. THE slayer, more precisely. I thought you might have been sent here on something demon related—why do you look like you are going to explode?"

"He told you?" Buffy still looked flabbergasted.

"Yes," Logan looked a little put out by her apparent inability to comprehend. "We are _friends_."

"Spike never had friends."

"He does now, as poor a specimen as I might be." Logan's tone was become irritated. "Can we please get down to business?"

"Fine," Buffy said, discomfited. "We're looking for this man, Max Curran." She showed him the photo. "He's been implicated in the likely kidnap and traffic of over one hundred girls across the country. He's supposed to be in LA right now. We want to locate him and find out how he runs his operation; best case scenario we would like to be able to recover some of the girls, but it may not be possible. He grabs his girls in clubs. That's the short version. Do you know him?"

Logan examined the photo. "I don't know him, but I'll be on the lookout. Is he associating with vampires? He sounds nasty." Buffy saw his hands curl into fists on the edge of his desk.

"I don't really know anything supernatural about him. Thanks for this list though." Buffy stood up to go. "I guess I might need it."

"I'll walk you out," Logan said, standing up to escort her.

As Buffy walked towards the door she caught sight of the photo she had been looking at earlier and recalled her fight with Veronica the previous night. She was not looking forward to going back to the safe house to see her. She put her hand on the door knob to open the door and then made a sudden decision. Instead of leaving, she turned back to look at Logan. "What's Veronica's deal?"

"What?" Logan looks genuinely bewildered. "Her deal?"

Buffy decided she had come this far, she might as well find out what she so desperately wanted to know. "Yeah, what is her story? I know you know her well, have for some time judging from that photo. I just want to know something about her."

Logan's face was hard and closed off. "I thought you were her partner."

"I am." Buffy tried to explain. "We only just got assigned together though. I don't really know anything about her."

"What makes you think I'd tell you anything Veronica hasn't told you and probably doesn't want you to know?" He spoke brusquely and sat back down in his chair.

Buffy crossed her arms and took a moment to think. She saw she'd need to take a different tack; she had seen that Logan definitely had some feelings for Veronica, but she hadn't anticipated that Logan would be so protective. "Veronica and I had a fight last night. We're having a hard time getting along as partners."

Logan looked slightly less vexed. "I can see how that could be. Two tiny pain-in-the-ass blondes might be too many for the planet. So you and Veronica aren't quite like sisters yet?"

Buffy shook her head. Well, maybe how she and her sister used to be, but not how they _ought _to be.

"And you want me to help with than situation?" Buffy just looked at him, waiting. "Out of curiosity, have you told her about being a slayer and the whole vampire thing?"

Buffy was getting irritated. "She read my FBI file, you know. She understands nothing about boundaries." The emotions of the previous night's arguments were coming back to her. "But, no, she doesn't know the supernatural shit."

Logan studied Buffy until she shifted uncomfortably. Then he spoke, "Okay. You want to know about Veronica? Here's something: Veronica hasn't really played well with others in some time. And she doesn't forgive and forget. She hates being kept in the dark. How do you expect to work with her if she doesn't even know you're a slayer?"

"There are some things that are private. My life is my business." Buffy didn't need this criticism right now.

"Good luck with that, then." Logan stood up and Buffy followed suit. "She's been hurt a lot, you know. If she decides you're trustworthy, then you'll be okay. Just stop lying to her; she'll find out. Given how I've left things with Veronica in the past, I don't know if I can give you more advice than that," he said, a little sadly.

"Thanks," Buffy said.

When Logan was holding the door and Buffy stepped through it, he paused. "Oh, and Buffy? Don't think because she's not a slayer she hasn't seen as much shit as you have. Humanity has its share of monsters, you know" he said, smiling grimly. "If _Veronica _ever decides to share with you, you'll learn that. Have a wonderful day." He shut the door behind her.

* * *

Veronica had managed to avoid Buffy all day by spending it outside the safe house. She walked the streets around, getting to know the neighborhood, and did some research at an internet café. She was frustrated that she seemed to be getting nowhere with the case and the FBI hadn't really provided much intel at all. As much as Veronica knew that she was pretty good at improvising, a little information was always a nice thing to have. Except for the file from the FBI however, it seemed like Max Curran might not even exist. Veronica was exhausted and frustrated by the time she met Buffy at the safe house to get dropped off at Angel Investigations. Buffy was going to pick her up again so they could go out together once again, something Veronica was really not looking forward to. She dressed up, however, and got in the car, leaving the talking up to Buffy. They started on their way to the Hyperion Hotel.

"Hey," Buffy said.

"Hi," Veronica replied simply.

"I saw Logan today," Buffy said, trying to start a conversation.

"Right," said Veronica, "Did he have any decent information? We could really use something."

Buffy had forgotten momentarily about the 'job' portion of what they were doing. "Not really." She paused. "I haven't really looked into it yet."

"Do you want me to check it out?" Veronica asked cordially.

"No," Buffy said a little quickly.

"Oh," Veronica said coldly. "I guess this partner thing is still hard for you. We're supposed to work together to solve this case."

When Buffy didn't say anything, Veronica just sat back in her seat and waited for them to get to their destination. It was obvious this communication thing was going nowhere. Hopefully Spike had _something_.

When they neared the Hyperion, Buffy hesitated. As she pulled up, she couldn't help but sense Angel and Spike inside. The feeling was a strange one, so familiar and yet forgotten. The thought of the two of them working together again was just so bizarre and unwelcome. As soon as Veronica got out of the car, Buffy took off again, giving her a chance to simply drive and think.

Entering the hotel, Veronica gave it a professional inspection. It was not the usual PI firm, that was for sure. It was very spacious, for one, and it was apparently empty. As the former face of Mars Investigations, Veronica disapproved of the unprofessionalism. How were they supposed to provide assistance to clients?

Veronica's initial assessment was interrupted by a tall, attractive brown-haired man coming down the main staircase. "Are you looking for something?" he said as he reached her.

"Angel Investigations?" she asked.

"Yes, welcome. Angel," he said holding out his hand for her to shake.

"'Angel' is your name?" she asked doubtfully as she shook his hand.

"Yes. It's my agency. We help the hopeless."

"Is that some sort of code?" Veronica asked. Angel just looked at her, puzzled. "Anyway, I'm Veronica Mars. I'm looking for Spike."

"Oh," Angel's face fell. "I can get him for you, don't worry." He walked back and opened a door, apparently leading to the basement. "Spike!" he shouted, "Someone to see you in the lobby. Come out or I'll be glad to come down and get you." Veronica heard a noise like indistinct swearing as Angel closed the door. "Captain Peroxide will be out in a minute. He can be a little fractious in the early evening."

"Captain Peroxide," Veronica said, grinning. "What an apt name."

"He is also affectionately known as Blondie Bear, but I'm not sure he likes that to be too widely spread." Angel smiled in return. "So, anything bring you here besides Spike's fair self?"

"Oh, I'm not here for Spike, I'm here for information. My partner and I are working a case. Buffy—" She stopped at the reaction she got from her words.

Angel had frozen in the midst of rubbing the back of his neck. "Did you just say Buffy? Buffy Summers? Here in LA?"

Veronica could see that Buffy might have had two reasons for not wanting to come to LA. "Spike didn't tell you?"

As if his name had conjured him, Spike appeared at that moment from the door to the basement. As soon as he had said, "Hello, Veronica," Angel had Spike pinned up against the wall, his arm pressed up against his windpipe.

"Perhaps not in front of company, Angelcakes," Spike squeezed out, apparently unruffled.

"Veronica, do you mind waiting a moment? I need to briefly consult with my colleague." Veronica shrugged and the two headed into the office, shutting the door behind them.

Veronica sat on the couch in the front hall for a moment to wait. That moment was not very extended as her curiosity predictably soon overtook her. She snuck up outside the door and listened.

"—you cagey bastard," she heard Angel say.

"I told you that you learn so much out on the town, you antisocial git. Seems like she didn't call you to say she was in town either, huh?" Spike said, mockingly.

"I let you be my goddamn partner, despite a truckload of misgivings, and you can't even tell me when she's in town. After so many years. Seems like someone is still jealous I was her first."

Veronica heard thumps. She was learning nothing about the case, certainly, but this insight into Buffy's romantic past was rather intriguing.

Spike spoke again. "If I recall, that first, and only, time resulted in you becoming evil. I could actually fulfill the needs of Buffy the woman, not just the lovesick teenager, you may remember."

Veronica expected renewed thumps, but instead there was silence. Then she heard Angel say sadly, "Yeah, well, she didn't tell either of us she was here, did she. Instead there's some blonde Buffy manqué standing in the front hall."

Veronica's hands automatically curled into fists at his description of her. Spike's voice was laced with amusement as he replied, "She seems a right nice little bint, you know. If you weren't so self-absorbed, you might also realize that she is listening outside the door." Veronica tried to step away as she heard that, but the door was immediately yanked open. "Sorry about that, pet. Peaches and I had a few things to work out."

"How did you know I was there?" She said, a little breathlessly. She felt embarrassed and annoyed; she wasn't used to getting caught.

"Could hear you breathing. Didn't like the comparison to Buffy, huh?" Spike chuckled. "She can be a little hard to live up to." Before Veronica could verbalize any of the warring thoughts in her head, Spike spoke again. "Do you want to come to my office and get what you came here for?"

He led the way into another room with a desk. Veronica thought the room positively wallowed in Victorian Gothic. She much preferred the clean, modern lines of Logan's place to this moth-eaten, Edgar Allen Poe-inspired monstrosity. She sat gingerly in the overstuffed chair in front of the desk. "Look, I don't have time for anymore of your Buffy-related shenanigans. I just want to solve this case and get the hell out of this city and this assignment. What I want to know is, do you know anything about a man named Max Curran?"

Spike seemed entertained by her sour attitude, but managed to stay on topic. "Max Curran? Name sounds familiar." He pursed his lips, thinking. "I think I have heard a little about this bloke. He's human, but—"

"Human?" Veronica broke in. "What else would he be?"

"Oh, uh, right," Spike apparently slightly thrown. "Don't know what I was thinking. I just was going to say that he hangs out with some real rough characters. Soulless killers, really. I think they only just got into town, but they've made their presence felt. Not sure what their game is right now, but it's probably not about helping puppies and kitties and whatnot."

"He's wanted in connection with a bunch of kidnappings—probably having to do with some sort of prostitution or slave trafficking," Buffy offered.

Spike looked puzzled. "Kidnapping? Definitely not murder?"

"No bodies. And it's over a hundred girls."

"Don't know the scheme." He frowned. "I might have pictures of some of Curran's boys. I've been wondering what they've been up to." He walked to a door in the near wall and yanked it open; it evidently connected to Angel's office as he shouted, "Oi, Angel, stop moping and see if you can get those little pictures of those vam—, um, villains that that fellow Curran's been spotted with. Veronica and _Buffy_ really need them."

He shut the door and turned back to Veronica. "Captain Forehead in there can get a bit broody, but he's not bad at all this detective stuff. He'll get those pictures for you."

"Is it just you and him that work here then?" Veronica asked.

"Well, there's also Illyria, but she's a bit too blue to see visitors." Spike replied.

"Depressed?" Veronica asked, confused.

"Sure," Spike said, a look of faint amusement on his face. "We used to have a whole gang of 'tecs, but they're all gone now."

From the way Spike said 'gone', Veronica could see he didn't just mean on to other jobs. It was the first flicker of genuine emotion that she had seen the sarcastic PI show.

There was silence as both tried to ignore the unexpected sentiment, waiting for Veronica to get the images and go. Veronica's mind wandered back to Neptune, to Mars Investigations and how it was nothing like this strange operations that seemed to consist of two virile, attractive men bickering in a large, empty hotel. She hadn't observed any of the usual technology nor had Angel or Spike shown anything of particular note in the investigating department. Looking at the set up, however, she suddenly had an idea. "I think I know someone who could help out here, if you're interested," she said, private amused.

"Oh?" Spike said diffidently, "We're mostly into the dangerous in here, love. I dunno if we're really your typical Shamuses—you shouldn't worry about us."

"Oh, no trouble at all," Veronica replied. "I'll call him and tell him about your set up and maybe he can swing by. He was interested in the PI business a while back and somehow I think he would be perfect."

"Alright," Spike said grudgingly. "Just as a personal favor though, just 'cause I'm a sucker for cute blondes."

"Whatever you need to tell yourself," Veronica said, taking out her blackberry to type in "Call Weevil" on the To Do list.

"Veronica," Spike said going back to the topic she had come about, "these guys, Curran's, are right dangerous. You let Buffy take care of them—she won't let you get hurt."

Veronica opened her mouth, about to protest that she could take care of herself. She knew her job was dangerous and she didn't need to be babysat, she wanted to say, but the door opened and Angel entered. He was carrying a few pieces of paper in his hands. "Here're the pictures you wanted," he said, smiling and handing them to Veronica and then glaring at Spike. Veronica was surprised to see that they were sketches, rather than the typical photograph.

"These are extremely helpful," she said, memorizing the three faces of men who ranged between 22 and 40. She would need to be able to recognize them in any circumstances. "I'll make sure Buffy gets a look at these."

Both men flinched at the name and shared an equivocal expression. Veronica would leave the two of them to work out their issues in her absence. She looked at her watch; Buffy should be there to pick her up already. She stood up to leave and bade the both of them goodbye, tucking the pictures carefully into her purse. They followed her to the door in a show of courtesy that was belied by the way they craned their necks at the exit to see her partner and vehicle. Veronica guessed that Buffy had parked at the end of the block however as she couldn't be seen from the doorway. Angel stopped her as she pressed the door open. "Veronica?"

Veronica paused expectantly. Angel cleared his throat awkwardly. "Can you tell Buffy to come by? It's been— it's been too long."

She nodded. "Sure thing," she said, stepping out of the door into the street. She saw the car at the end of the block. She didn't envy Buffy the two headaches Veronica had just left behind. At least Veronica only had one Logan Echolls, as much of an excess as it might seem sometimes.

She opened the door and climbed in next to Buffy. She was in a more positive mood after gaining information both about the case and about her partner from her little visit to Angel Investigations. "We have faces for some of Curran's associates, courtesy of Angel Investigations. I'll let you peruse them at the next stop light." Buffy nodded. "We'll need to keep an eye out for them at whatever club we're going to tonight. What's the name of the place anyways?"

"Swanson22," Buffy said. She had chosen it as it had been one both on the list compiled by the FBI and on Logan's. She didn't want to admit it, but she definitely had a feeling that the supernatural was not out of the question for this case. Just visiting somewhere there might be vampires should get her into the swing of things, she hoped, as she was woefully out of practice. They sat in silence shortly as Buffy navigated the streets leading to their destination. Veronica remembered her message. "Angel says to tell you that you should come by. Oh, and that it's been too long."

Veronica saw Buffy face remain impassive, but her knuckles whitened on the steering wheel. Buffy swallowed. "And Spike? Did he give you a message too?" she asked, her voice tight.

"No," Veronica said. She watched Buffy's face but she couldn't read the reaction to her words.

Buffy stayed silent, not trusting her voice. Thinking of the two of them so nearby made her feel her grip on reality slipping away. She felt herself on the edge of a cliff, hanging on desperately to her job and her current life to prevent the inevitable crash onto the jagged rocks below. Why couldn't she just be free to concentrate on the task at hand without two undead ex-lovers forever lurking in the wings?

* * *

Swanson22 was as much of a scene as the previous clubs they had gone to. Buffy threw herself into the crowd, eager to lose herself in the music and the movement that surrounded her. Veronica decided not to follow her, finding Buffy's approach lacking in strategy or direction. She headed to a small balcony to get a good vantage point on the dance floor and bar area. Now that she had some targets, it gave her purpose, and she inspected the room thoroughly. For about half an hour, she familiarized herself with her surroundings and watched the crowd for any recognizable faces. Buffy was central, ostensibly dancing with a couple of guys, but Veronica could see that she was entirely self-involved. Veronica was troubled at the apparent lack of any attempt to pursue their assignment at all. Buffy seemed alienated from the reality of their assignment altogether.

Her musings did not interrupt her constant surveillance and suddenly she paused. She had seen the high cheekbones and wide-set eyes of one of the men from Spike's illustrations. Beside him were two others, facing away from her, but quite possibly the other two Spike had mentioned. She felt the frisson of excitement that she experienced whenever an investigation progressed from theory to action. She thought momentarily that she should alert Buffy, but then looked at her dancing with abandon. Spike had said they were dangerous, but Veronica dismissed the idea that a distracted Buffy would be any help in this instance. She could just make their acquaintance and she had her taser if there were any problems. She headed down to the dance floor, putting on the brilliant smile that beamed eagerness and naiveté.

At some point, Buffy decided she should probably find out what her partner was up to. Also, her ankle strap was slightly chafing. She looked around to see Veronica chatting with three guys at the edge of the dance floor. Buffy noticed that they looked vaguely familiar and then felt the sudden quiver in her stomach that she hadn't felt in so long._ Vampires_. She had just swallowed the realization, when she saw the four of them moving off towards an exit. The dullness that had overtaken Buffy in her dancing haze was immediately shaken off with the sudden suggestion of menace. Buffy knew there was no way three vampires and her entirely human partner could end well at all. She stood up straight as every nerve in her body tingled and she started to push and weave her way through the crowd, trying to get to the exit, following Veronica.

As the cool air of the street outside hit her, Veronica realized that this plan may have not been the wisest. The man who seemed about her age was being very attentive, wrapping his arm around her and trying to kiss her. Veronica decided that the dim sorority girl act may have been a little too convincing this time, but going with the flow was still the safest way to get herself out of this mix-up sans unpleasant kidnapping, while planting one of the trackers she had put in her bag before coming out. The three men seemed to enjoy joking about the fine quality of the cuisine in LA and Veronica giggled at what she saw as the appropriate moment. They turned down the alley next to the club and Veronica's cool was rapidly disappearing. The man she was walking with pushed her up against the brick wall of the club a little roughly and leaned over her, looking like he was about to kiss her.

What happened next was so sudden and astonishing that Veronica was paralyzed. The man clapped a hand over her mouth, gripping her shoulder with great force, while his face transformed; his teeth grew long and sharp, his canines particularly and the entire upper part of his face became unequivocally inhuman. His head came down suddenly and his breath was close and cold on her neck, when the movement was suddenly arrested.

"Jarvis!" the taller of the other two said in a gravelly voice. "This is work, not play, you imbecile. You know she's more valuable untasted—find snacks on your own time."

The _thing_ pinning Veronica, apparently named Jarvis, let out a doglike whine. "But she looks and smells _so_ delicious, Vince."

The hold on Veronica was momentarily loosed, as Vince grabbed Jarvis by the throat, his face having apparently undergone the same transformation. Veronica tried to take this instant to run, but the silent 3rd man caught her and held her fast after two weak steps.

"That's why she's going to net us a lot of cash, whelp," Vince hissed to Jarvis, "and you can attract plenty of sweets with your new BMW."

"Fine," Jarvis squeezed out.

At that moment, there was a crash at the opening of the alley and Veronica managed to see Buffy silhouetted in the street lamp. "You know, boys, your mothers should have taught you not to play so rough," she called out to them, standing defiantly with her hands on her hips.

As discombobulated as Veronica was by the unexpected series of events, the distraction allowed her to reach her hand into her purse and get a handle on her taser. "Say hello to Mr. Sparky," she muttered as she pressed the weapon against her captor.

As he collapsed, Veronica heard the sound of combat from the area where Buffy and the two other assailants were. She ran down the other end of the alley. 50 yards away she paused; she couldn't just leave her partner in there to be kidnapped or even to die. They were a team for a reason. When she looked back to see how Buffy was faring, she was amazed to see her taking on the two creatures easily despite the disadvantages in size and number. With a graceful, practiced arc, Buffy plunged a stake into Jarvis' chest and he disintegrated. Buffy continued her bout with Vince, fighting with a strength and proficiency that Veronica could only identify as superhuman. Veronica saw Buffy lifted and thrown against the opposite wall, only to stand up once again and recommence her attack. At that moment Veronica saw that her previous captor had spotted her and was running to catch up with her. Veronica quickly surveyed her surroundings. As he approached, she saw a long black wire stretching from one side of the alley to the other, wrapped around a pipe and with a loop lying at her feet. The adrenaline making her feel estranged from her own actions, her brain functioning outside of her consciousness; just as he was about to cross the line, she pulled it taut, sending him tripping and tumbling forward. Something tumbled from his pocket, clattering under a nearby box, and his head smashed into the corner of a cement step with a crunch, leaving him momentarily still.

"Stake him!" Veronica heard Buffy shout to her. "Don't let him get up!"

Veronica grabbed a wooden slat, the remainder from some sort of abandoned shipping crate. She stabbed down into his back, using her own weight and gravity to embed it deep. To her relief, he crumbled to dust, leaving her holding the wooden board over the tangled wire and empty street. She heard a commotion behind her and saw Vince running towards her. She held up her wood as firmly as she could, but he turned to dust before reaching her, a stake apparently stuck in his back that then clattered to the ground when he vanished.

Veronica bent to pick it up and then straightened to see Buffy standing in front of her. "That was all of them, right?" Buffy asked, breathlessly. "There can't be any witnesses. I don't want them knowing I'm in town."

"Them?" Veronica asked dumbly.

"Vampires." Buffy replied.

"Vampires?"

"Yes. Undead, soulless, blood-sucking demons."

"Vampires." Veronica nodded dreamily. "That was all of them." As she heard herself say it, the exhilaration of still being alive receded. "Those were our only leads," she said flatly, "and now we have nothing."

Buffy's eyes widened. "I just saved your life and you're complaining about the case?" she said, startled.

"Although you seem to have forgotten entirely why we're here, we are supposed to solve a case. For our jobs. That's why I risked my life in this goddamn alley to begin with." Veronica's hysterical frustration had entirely overtaken her.

"We're partners, Veronica, how come you didn't tell me to come with you out here? We're not supposed to be working this case on our own. I dusted two vamps tonight to stop you from being just another FBI agent sucked dry and left dead in an alley. Should I have just let him have you as a snack for the sake of some half-cocked investigation?"

The word "snack" suddenly diverted Veronica from her irritation borne of suppressed panic, stirring memories of the conversation she had overheard, but not grasped earlier. "He wasn't going to," she said softly, thinking back to the discussion between the two, she swallowed as she wrapped her head around it, _vampires_.

"He wasn't?" Buffy asked, intrigued.

"No," she said, shaking her head and remembering. "They were going to take me away as part of a job. I had to be 'untasted.'"

Buffy reached up reflexively to rub her neck. Her brow was furrowed as she looked blankly at the wall behind Veronica. "We're going to need help on this one. I guess it's lucky I know some vampire specialists," she said a little bitterly, running her hand through her hair. "Sorry we had to dust our leads," she said looking at Veronica.

Veronica began to giggle, a little hysterically. When she had to apologize for yelling at someone for saving her life, the night had officially become ridiculous. When the laughter became to sound suspiciously like sobs, she managed to control herself enough to speak. "The way I acted, you probably should have left me out there to die. What was that extreme action girl stuff you had going on back there anyway? Why do I feel like the world is way more insane than I ever guessed before?"

Buffy took Veronica's arm and started steering her out of the alley. "I'll explain tomorrow, k? I think there's been a little too much of the crazy tonight."

They started walking towards the entrance to the street. Two feet from the street, the silence was broken by the echoing rattle of vibration on metal. They stopped and Buffy ran back to investigate. Veronica saw her kneeling on the ground, reaching under a random metal box. She pulled out something with a flashing screen. "It's a phone," Buffy called. She stood up and walked towards Veronica, looking at the Caller ID. "Looks like it's 'Max' calling."

Veronica smiled in satisfaction. "Guess we do have a lead after all."

* * *

**A/N: Sorry to take so long; I was out of town. Please read and review, it makes me happy and want to write so much more! Also, I think I need a beta to help me keep my two little protagonists under control, so if anyone who is a Buffy and Veronica fan wants PM me, I'd love to hear from them. I'm looking for plot/characterization input, not so much on the grammar.**


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